The new minnesinger and other poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

From Thee the budding flowers, the breaking skies,
Man's opening eyelids, and morn's golden gray;
Lord, on thine eye doth no new vision rise?
What Thou beholdest hast Thou seen alway?

Hath all thy will been taught to us of old?
Dost Thou but read to us a written book?
Or to thy chosen children slow unfold
A day on which thine own eyes freshly look?

May not the growing light, the widening view,
The sweet blue folded distances be thine?
Far hopes, ideals fresh, great purpose new,
In lustre break upon the thought divine?

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May not thy love to usward, perfect aye,
Itself refashion as the ages roll;
And Thou, enlarging thy heart's boundaries, lay
Still closer claim to the upsoaring soul?

As grows the child, doth not the mother dare
Still higher futures for her darling see?
So would we dream Thou dost for us prepare
Grander Hereafters as we climb to Thee.

Lord, hast Thou like to us the kindling heart,
The broad'ning aim? Art Thou indeed so nigh,
Our spirit-gleams give back in feeble part
Some outburst of a glorious light on high?

Doth our poor sunlight in its golden rise
Thine eye's diviner daybreak dimly show?
Lo, we are watchers of thy morning skies,
To love Thee dearer as our light doth grow